


Perfect Harmony

by BellaTheReal



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Cappella, Fluff, I love fluff, M/M, Teenlock, a cappellalock, but it will be fluffy, i'm not really sure where i'm going with this yet, music groups, they're all hormonal teens singing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaTheReal/pseuds/BellaTheReal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson and Sherlock Holmes meet at an a capella group competition. Problem is, they're on opposing teams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a silly little fluffy fic for a friend :> if it becomes something more then I hope you enjoy it

Originally, John was completely averse to joining the school’s a cappella group, but when Mike had convinced him that it was mostly dominated by girls, and that his chances at scoring one were high… well, John was signing up rather quickly after that.  It might have seemed shallow, but John figured that if he wasn’t good enough, he wouldn’t be put on the ‘team’ (John didn’t really like calling it a team, only sports teams were real teams), and in all honesty it wouldn’t be a true loss. Besides, what would be the harm in just signing up?

At least, that was what he thought, until he totally got into it. Though if anyone asked John, he would just mutter about how it rounded out his applications to university. Made him look more diverse of a student. In actuality, John enjoyed it. The only-voices thing was cool, and John was pretty good if he said so himself.  The group was nice as well, all sorts of different kids who John wouldn’t usually hang out with. Sure he got some flak from his rugby mates, but John didn’t mind. 

It was a surprise to all of them when their teacher sponsor said they would be going into competition, but soon the surprise changed to excitement.  Competition made things more interesting, especially since they were only previously just preforming small song compilations at the sports events and open houses.  It was nothing special, so competition was a motivator to do better. 

They all worked tirelessly to get to a perfect selection of songs, the seven of them putting in more practices and listening to more music.  By the end of the week, John was drinking his body weight in tea with honey and lemon to make sure his throat didn’t tire out. They were all nearly sick of the songs they were singing…nearly. 

As the competition drew nearer and nearer, John could feel them all get a bit nervous. They had seen the fliers advertising the competition outside the theatre hall they’d be performing at.  It was an assortment of posh schools and regular schools. There would even be a professional judge there and everything. It shook them.

“It’s going to be some stiff competition.” Molly said with a nervous laugh, looking at everyone as she sat down in one of the plastic chairs in the choir room.  They rehearsed there only when the actual choir was out, usually in a teacher’s classroom.  The a cappella group wasn’t all that popular around the school and was often found annoying by more than a few teachers.  The group tended to revel in the controversy, though. 

John shrugged in reply, looking over their song list again, “Winning will be a side effect, you know. It’s fun that we even get to go.”

Mike laughed, “Gonna give us a speech about how participating is winning enough?”

John rolled his eyes, “All I’m saying is that we just shouldn’t be so caught up about winning, I mean we only formed the group this year, shouldn’t expect much. Besides Mike, with you howling during the last bit, I think we might actually get kicked out.” They all laughed, even Mike did a bit when he realized it was a good natured joke.

“It’d be cool if we got a bit close to winning though.” John said with a hum, receiving several muttered agreements as everyone stood to run through another practice.

.O.o.O.

“Getting close to winning isn’t enough.” Sebastian Wilkes barked for the third time that practice, and while the rest of them nodded determinedly, Sherlock gave a sort of noncommittal shrug.  He was rather certain of their victory, running the odds twice over in his mind.  They were set.  Strong sopranos, good altos, a classic song mix and even a diverse group.

“We don’t really have anything to worry about, though, do we?” Irene said with a smug smile, looking at each of the group, “I mean, we’re already boasting an outstanding number of wins, nothing to worry about.”

Wilkes rolled his eyes, “Winning is never guaranteed. There is a new group in the competition you know, they’re—“

“A no doubt frumpy group of misfits who thought that being in an a cappella group would be amusing and then got too in over their heads and will more than likely embarrass themselves.” Sherlock interrupted, “Really, Irene is correct—for once—we have nothing to worry about.”

There was quite a bit of muttering between all of them, but most ended up agreeing. They were set, they were fantastic really.  Of course Sherlock knew this but it often took quite a bit to get the others on his side, as he was usually disliked, even among like-minded peers.  Honestly, if he didn’t have the best voice of the group, he wouldn’t have been allowed in.

“Great, now that your egos are all nearly suffocating, we can practice again. You’re a bit flat on the last part, Sebastian, I don’t want to have to carry you through the song.” Sherlock huffed, immediately earning a few glares.

It was going to be a long week until the competition.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, second chapter.  
> I'll most likely be updating on Wednesday (if anyone cares)  
> But.. um, sorry if this isn't how a cappella competitions go?  
> I'm just going off of a general idea.  
> Enjoy!

The dingy school bus made its way up the worryingly steep hill to the theatre hall, and John was certain that if the nerves didn’t kill him, the bus ride would.  He looked out the window again, the inner city swallowing them up as they got closer to their destination.  Of course all of them had been to the city before, they weren’t completely oblivious to it, but it was still out of their comfort zone more or less.

John’s attention went between his teammates, making sure they all seemed okay.  Sometimes they would refer to John as the adult of the group, always checking over and reprimanding them if they were out of line, but hey, he just liked order.  John nodded at Molly, who seemed a bit green, though John wasn’t sure if it was from the impending situation or the rocky turns.

Strategically, John hopped seats until he was next to Molly, “Everything alright? D’you need a water?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“No, really it’s fine!” Molly said immediately, shaking her head, “I’m just a bit nervous and all. The largest group of people we've preformed for has been like… Twenty. And now we’re doing this… competition.” She swallowed hard and John patted her shoulder.

“We know what we’re doing, it’s just a whole bunch of people singing okay? Nothing to worry about.” John comforted, though he was a great degree nervous as well. 

Before he could dwell over his sudden stage fright, they had pulled into the parking lot of the theatre, the bus lurching to a stop for them.  They all stood, straightening out their respective suits and dresses and all headed out, single file behind their designated teacher chaperon.

John looked around as they entered the hall, trying very hard not to gape.  He hadn't realized how popular a cappella was; though, he supposed that if your kid went to a posh school, you had to attend these things, especially if it included bragging rights. 

The group was led backstage to the large back room where all the other teams were preparing, whether it be doing vocal exercises or fixing their clothes.  John stood near his team, who all decided to sit down at any available spot.  He wanted to tell them to stand, wanted to point out how the other kids weren’t sitting, but he didn’t want to come across as being self-conscious. As a resolve, John stood silently, hands in his pockets. 

They were told by the coordinator that they would be escorted out to the front area where the orchestra usually sits, and will go one team by one backstage.  This was both to keep it from being crowded and to allow them to enjoy the show as well. 

John nearly rolled his eyes, “Enjoy the show my arse,” he mumbled to Mike, “More like scope out the competition.” Mike nodded in reply, though the lack of actual words had John resuming his previous spot. 

As he stood, John felt like he was being x-rayed, frowning to himself, he looked around the room before meeting the startlingly sharp eyes of a competitor. The stranger held his gaze for what felt like ages before John felt his face flush, causing him to look away. 

 _Christ_ , John thought to himself, _hope I don’t look at him while I’m on stage._

The coordinator eventually ended his long speech about how he was proud of everyone back there, and eventually led the teams out to the auditorium.  They were met with an adequate amount of applause, ending as they sat down.  John looked down the row at his team, giving them all a thumbs up.  He received a few nervous smiles in reply, though he was sure they would relax as time went on. 

John sat back in his seat as the lights dimmed, the first team introducing and from the first sung note, he was nervous all over again. He hadn’t remembered the school’s name, but they were impressive, boasting a large amount (John figured they hit the maximum) of students, all reaching a range of vocals.  And damn it all, they had picked a brilliant song medley as well.  With a quiet sigh, John sank a bit in his seat.  Maybe they were in over their heads. 

Soon enough, John’s team went up, thankfully within the middle so if their performance wasn’t all that great it would be swallowed up by the later ones.  They lined up on the edge of the stage, waiting for their school to be announced before walking into the spotlight.  John was pleased to find that they were right about the lighting and how it made it hard to see the crowd, and soon he forgot that there was a large amount of people there. 

John took a deep breath, signaling the start of their medley, mainly consisting of the usual top 40 hits, though keeping within a range of respectable song choice.  He was so focused on his own parts, that John didn’t even pay mind to what everyone else was doing, though at the back of his thoughts he was sure they were doing well. 

Before he knew it, Molly was sang out the last high note before closing and the audience was clapping with what John hoped was actual enthusiasm.  They all walked off stage, waving, before practically collapsing against each other back stage again.

“Brilliant! I think we did really good!” Mike said with a wide grin, everyone nodding.  


“Right.. well, let’s all just try and catch our breath yeah? Grab some water on the way back to our seats.” John said, looking behind him briefly to see the same set of eyes watching him again.  John turned away, though, in no state to try and figure out what the strange bloke wanted. 

.O.o.O.

The competition seemed almost too easy, Sherlock mused as they headed to their seats, waiting for the performance to start.  The usual schools were here with their usual pompous and uppity students, though the one school from the edge of the zoning for their district was different.  The team was obviously nervous, this their only time being in such a large performance hall. It was almost laughable.

He had analyzed each one of them when they were being given the disgustingly sentimental speech about the true nature of a cappella.  All nervous and extremely worried, though whenever the blond boy spoke, they seemed to regain a bit of confidence.  It wasn’t odd for the captain of a team to be the reassuring one, but as far as Sherlock could tell, the team didn’t have an actual captain. 

It had seemed to him that they were all friends, which was ridiculous. You didn’t just join an a cappella team, you had to audition, prove your worth.  Though as they walked and spoke with each other, it was apparent they were.  Interesting. 

Sherlock’s eyes kept lingering on the blond, his build and personality said rugby player but he was here? Frowning, Sherlock took his seat, staring intently at the back of the blond’s head, idly wondering how it was possible that shoulders be so expressive. 

Just as Sherlock was getting to memorize the movements according to the stranger’s mood, their team was going up to perform.  Sherlock caught himself in his thoughts. Why did he care about this stranger? It wasn’t like him. Deducing people was a tactical thing, not one to… understand a person.

Huffing, Sherlock crossed his arms and sat back, waiting impatiently for their team to be called back, though it seemed the coordinators really meant it when they said they wanted the competitors to watch each other. 

As the group scuffled to the center of the floor, Sherlock’s eyes travelled directly to the boy, who started the song but soon was swallowed into the background.  He was just supporting vocals, though he was good. Not overpowering but his presence was noticeable.  


The team was good.  Certainly not trained at all, some of the notes were messy or overpowered, and it seemed the mousy girl on the end had too soft a voice.  Though when it came to a close, Sherlock gave in and clapped as well, much to the irritation of his team mates. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, standing when they were called backstage, being handed their microphones. His eyes drifted over and met the blond’s again, and before he could offer a nod or anything, the other was gone. Rude, Sherlock thought to himself; though it didn’t matter, they were about to go on.

The group of boys and required three girls stood board-straight in the center of the stage.  Sherlock waited for his queue and began the main instrumental, his deep voicing aiding in carrying a contrast to the sopranos.  He knew they were impressive, the resounding silence in the hall making their voices echo perfectly. 

As they came to an abrupt close, the audience seemed shocked that it ended, though abruptly began clapping in earnest.  They all took their bows and exited the stage, almost mechanically. 

.O.o.O.

John gaped. Openly gaped at the team up on stage.  They were… astounding. Not one misplaced note, not… not a flaw at all.  He swallowed dryly.  If the rest were going to be like that, they didn’t stand a chance.  Deciding not to dwell on it, John clapped along with the audience before settling again in his seat.

The hour seemed to crawl by, John worrying so much that he actually pulled a button from his cuff. The stress of waiting for the results was going to kill him, he was sure.  John watched, his heart in his throat as the judges went backstage to decide on the final results.

Soon enough, the announcer came up, explaining that four teams would be selected to go onto the semi-finals, and then those four would compete within the other districts to go onto the finals, which included schools from other countries as well. 

The pressure John felt in his chest was almost too much to bear as the announcer read off the fourth place winners.  John looked down as Molly squeezed his hand, they all seemed to tense up. The announcer flourished the card, smiling at the crowd,

“And in fourth place is…”  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thanks for reading, sorry for not keeping chapter length consistent but, you know. I'm just so fickle.   
> Hope you like this one!

Sherlock waited, bored, with the rest of his team as the announcer read the results.  Fourth place and a few teams actually looked excited. Of course it meant going to the next competition but they may as well have not even gotten placed.  It was pitiful, really, though at the back of his mind he hoped for the blond’s team that they would get it.

He watched the team in front of him tense up just as the announcer read the card and spoke,

 “Congratulations to St. Luke’s preparatory… fourth place and heading onto finals. Very good.” The announcer said, turning his cue cards, “Now for third place…”

Sherlock sighed, what a shame. Though he supposed he understood the reasoning, first year competitors hardly ever achieved anything astounding. Sherlock’s train of thought was interrupted by loud cheering in front of him and… what? They had gotten third?

.O.o.O.

John was about ready to ask everyone if they wanted to go for dinner afterwards when he heard it.

Their school’s name. They had…. Them? Third place?

John wasn’t even sure how he had made it to the stage, but he was gripping a moderately sized trophy and found that his face hurt from smiling.  They had done it!

They all ascended onto the stage, wide grins on their faces ask they looked out to the crowd, a few parents snapping photos for no reason other than to have photos.  It was brilliant, fantastic, amazing. They had actually gotten third and they were going on to the next round.  John’s face soon hurt with his smiling, though he didn’t care. 

The other winners were announced, of course the team with the mysterious stranger won first place, and while they looked happy they didn’t look surprised at all.  John made brief eye contact with the stranger again and nodded at him, as if in congratulations.

More photos were taken, and while John usually hated photos he rather enjoyed the happiness of his friends, who all seemed more than willing to crowd around the small fake gold trophy. After the photos (John had lost count at how many were taken, and now his face _really_ hurt), they were all herded into the reception hall that was attached to enjoy a complimentary dinner, they would also receive their instructions and guidelines for the next round of competition there as well.

Excusing himself from the excited chattering of Molly, John stood to refresh his drink.  Really he wasn’t all too thirsty, but the entire day had been a whirlwind and John needed some time to himself, even if it was just during the short walk to the punch bowl. 

“Congratulations.” Said a voice John didn’t recognize.  He almost expected it to be an adult until he turned around and was met with a familiar pair of eyes.   


“Oh, um, thanks. You too. First place is really good.” John said with a smile before holding out a hand, “John Watson.” He introduced.

“Sherlock Holmes.” The other said, shaking John’s hand for what seemed the briefest amount of time possible, “First year competitors don’t usually win a place, you should feel good for even getting third.”

John stiffened slightly, “Of course we’re happy. And it’s not just getting third, it’s… a good thing, not everyone can be classically trained.” He said with a slight huff.

The taller seemed to be thrown a bit off before shrugging, “I didn’t mean anything by it, but really with a group like that I’m sure everyone here is impressed.”

“Like what?” John frowned, looking over to his friends, who were looking at him rather surprised.

“Just.. a mix of people. You yourself are a rugby player, those types don’t usually enjoy singing for competition.” Sherlock pointed out.

“How did you—“

“Simple, your stature and musculature. Tan as well, but not as noticeably because the season has been out.” Sherlock rattled off easily, watching for John’s reaction, which was alarming.

John’s frown eased into a smile, “That’s… wow. You’re rather multitalented.” He chuckled, stepping forward again to pour himself a drink, “You can do that with everyone?”

Sherlock nodded, picking up a cup as well, “Yes, it’s rather simple, just observation and such. No one has ever reacted positively to it, though.”

“Well, I can see why. You’re a bit abrasive.” John said with a teasing smile, though before he could say anything else, Sherlock’s team mates were on either side of him.

“Interesting friend you’ve made Holmes, but the table needs you to begin discussing songs.” Said the shorter, a sharp glint in his eyes as he looked between Sherlock and John.

Sherlock hadn’t a chance to protest before he was practically being dragged off.

“I’ll see you in a couple weeks.” John called, waving a hand in goodbye. Sherlock nodded, raising his hand as well before it was tugged down roughly by the short boy.

.O.o.O.

“What the hell do you think you were doing, Holmes?” Sebastian hissed, “We always agree, no talking to the competition. We’re not here to make friends.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, ignoring Sebastian for favour of looking over to John again. John Watson.  Dull name but surprisingly, not a dull person.

For once, Sherlock was looking forward to the next competition for a whole other reason entirely.


End file.
